The Kingdom of Rondón
Committed
Seeking fearless soldiers, merchants, and frontiersmen
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: 400 - 450 years old
Physical Description: Gist: Having just recently conquered their neighboring kingdom of Zephyr, Rondón is going through a golden age, and its Queen is commissioning sea captains as privateers to explore and colonize nearby islands to bring underneath Rondón's green banner.
Capital City: Vinicio, formerly Rondón
Other Major Cities: Selanca, DeRuiz, Baloncia, Brais, Port Calar, Sincaro
Primary Language: Rondi (Fantasy Spanish)
Clothes and Equipment: Ruler: Queen Xiomara Vinicio
Heir: Prince Rafael, Princess Arenna
Primary Export: Gold, stone, wine, horses, lumber, iron, olives, luxury goods
Registered: Apr 5, 2017 19:08:47 GMT -8
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Post by The Kingdom of Rondón on Jan 22, 2018 15:31:37 GMT -8
Merryman Humour, Feanor Vala, Suezo Oguro, Nineteen (The Crimson Book)The mustachio'd captain's dark brows rose beneath his helm when the mysterious -- and ominous looking -- stranger didn't seem to put up much of a fight, speaking in honesty as the power of the Book of Oaths constructed by LaBruja Soraya wove its magic around the Merryman. The captain would have said more, but another guard came jogging up to speak to him in quick Rondí. If the Merryman was at all knowledgeable in the language, he would know that the Captain was just warned about the small host coming from Mithlonde lead by Feanor Vala, as well as the much larger host of the most foreign people they had ever before seen led by Suezo Oguro. "Fine, fine," the Captain of the City Guard said in impatient common, taking the book away, but stepping closer to the Merryman. "Go into the city and go to LaPlaza diLuna -- you will speak with Soraya de la Cruz. She is the Sorceress of Rondón, and she will have a place for you. Do not cause harm in my city," the Captain said with a deadly tone. Perhaps he was only human, but he was no stranger to magic, and seemed to be very good at his job. The man stepped away and allowed the Merryman through, trusting that the cloaked figure would be able to make his way to LaPlaza diLuna -- smaller, more compact, and eerily quiet in the bustling war-prepped city. The Captain grinned when he saw Feanor Vala, as guards immediately approached Nineteen (The Crimson Book) separately to halt his entrance. He was treated no differently than many of the people coming in, and that Nineteen looked like a skeleton barely made the Rondí bat an eyelash -- they were used to seeing skeletons, such as it was. "Welcome back to Rondón," the Captain said warmly to Feanor, grasping him by the lower arm. "LaReina has been expecting you," he said, speaking of Xiomara. "the Centennial Park is where they are organizing who will be going where. Your orders will be waiting there," the Captain said, making it easy for Feanor and his elven rangers to go through the city gates. As soon as he was finished his speaking, the Captain's horse was brought to him by two guards who were already on horseback. For Nineteen, the guards that stopped him asked him the usual questions -- "Name, age, intent within Rondón, magical aptitude," the usual sort of questions that were given to strangers coming into a city prepping for war. Suezo Oguro was met on the road before 200 of his foreign-looking warriors were crowding the already crunched roads in and out of Rondón. The captain road out with two of his men, a banner of Rondón waving behind the horses as they met them down the road. "Halt," the Captain of the City Guard said, dark eyes serious and grim as they looked at these warriors. Zephyr mercenaries? He'd never seen armor like there's before. Rondón was beautiful in the distance, and people that were coming and going on the road were looking at Suezo's warriors like they were animals in a menagerie -- open wonder and perhaps a tad bit of judgmental fear of the unknown. Suezo stated his intention, and where he was from -- using foreign words that the Captain had never heard before. Tawakoshi? Clan Hizashi? "Bring yourself and two chosen," the Captain said directly to Suezo. "They will be allowed through the gates to meet with the generals for the Rondí efforts agaisnt Zephyr. The rest of your men must wait out here in the hills," he said, and he gestured to wear Alfonso de Rondón's large host were also making themselves comfortable while the man was within the city. "I will escort you to the Palace of Thorns myself," the Captain said to Suezo, and if the Rondí man's orders were followed, the men would then ride through the city, taking a few back routes to avoid the thick traffic of the war preparation, in order to arrive at the Palace of Thorn's back gates. The elves kept a wary eye on the skeleton man, particularly the mages, but they did not address him. Feanor returned the grasp, grinning as he did. "I am happy to be back, I did not get to see much of the City last time, but our diplomats insist it was a spectacular time. I hope to return during the festival next year." He offered a bow then led his party into the City proper, making their way towards the Centennial Park. The Elves of Mithlonde would find themselves greeted with open and friendly faces of other sergeants and officers within Centennial Park. They were directed to the tent that would head to Beorn, where it was said that El Diablo Incarnado might lead them. Feanor was given a briefing, translated into Common for him, as well as access to the maps and pamphlets they had put together on their theories on how they might get through Beorn, Koen, and their so-called "insurmountable" walls.
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The Kingdom of Rondón
Committed
Seeking fearless soldiers, merchants, and frontiersmen
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: 400 - 450 years old
Physical Description: Gist: Having just recently conquered their neighboring kingdom of Zephyr, Rondón is going through a golden age, and its Queen is commissioning sea captains as privateers to explore and colonize nearby islands to bring underneath Rondón's green banner.
Capital City: Vinicio, formerly Rondón
Other Major Cities: Selanca, DeRuiz, Baloncia, Brais, Port Calar, Sincaro
Primary Language: Rondi (Fantasy Spanish)
Clothes and Equipment: Ruler: Queen Xiomara Vinicio
Heir: Prince Rafael, Princess Arenna
Primary Export: Gold, stone, wine, horses, lumber, iron, olives, luxury goods
Registered: Apr 5, 2017 19:08:47 GMT -8
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Post by The Kingdom of Rondón on Jan 22, 2018 15:34:41 GMT -8
The Dwarves of Khaldaruhm made their way to the Rondi docks. A dozen massive galleons, escorted by numerous smaller sloops and brigs. On the decks of these ships were many heavily armored dwarven warriors, manning or repairing a variety of both mundane and arcane weaponry. The lead ship, Thorgondrir , was the first to tie off at the docks, the same diplomat party from before disembarking and awaiting a greeting. There was a small diplomatic party waiting for the dwarves once they were docked. As the Elves were greeted with smiles, so, too, were the dwarves. They were not led to the Palace of Thorns straight away, but instead to Centennial Park where the tents for LasIslas were set up. Like Feanor, the dwarves were given all the information currently available for the efforts for LasIslas, including the knowledge that the Crown Prince would be leading the naval strikes, and how much sea support they expected Zephyr to give.
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The Kingdom of Rondón
Committed
Seeking fearless soldiers, merchants, and frontiersmen
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: 400 - 450 years old
Physical Description: Gist: Having just recently conquered their neighboring kingdom of Zephyr, Rondón is going through a golden age, and its Queen is commissioning sea captains as privateers to explore and colonize nearby islands to bring underneath Rondón's green banner.
Capital City: Vinicio, formerly Rondón
Other Major Cities: Selanca, DeRuiz, Baloncia, Brais, Port Calar, Sincaro
Primary Language: Rondi (Fantasy Spanish)
Clothes and Equipment: Ruler: Queen Xiomara Vinicio
Heir: Prince Rafael, Princess Arenna
Primary Export: Gold, stone, wine, horses, lumber, iron, olives, luxury goods
Registered: Apr 5, 2017 19:08:47 GMT -8
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Post by The Kingdom of Rondón on Jan 22, 2018 15:39:37 GMT -8
"Halt," the Captain of the City Guard said, dark eyes serious and grim as they looked at these warriors. Zephyr mercenaries? He'd never seen armor like there's before. Rondón was beautiful in the distance, and people that were coming and going on the road were looking at Suezo's warriors like they were animals in a menagerie -- open wonder and perhaps a tad bit of judgmental fear of the unknown. Suezo stated his intention, and where he was from -- using foreign words that the Captain had never heard before. Tawakoshi? Clan Hizashi? "Bring yourself and two chosen," the Captain said directly to Suezo. "They will be allowed through the gates to meet with the generals for the Rondí efforts agaisnt Zephyr. The rest of your men must wait out here in the hills," he said, and he gestured to wear Alfonso de Rondón's large host were also making themselves comfortable while the man was within the city. "I will escort you to the Palace of Thorns myself," the Captain said to Suezo, and if the Rondí man's orders were followed, the men would then ride through the city, taking a few back routes to avoid the thick traffic of the war preparation, in order to arrive at the Palace of Thorn's back gates. Apparently Suezo and his men had mistaken a small village for being Rondón and a farmer leaning on a fence for being a gate guard. This was very embarrassing when one of his loyal samurai pointed this out. But being already dishonored and on a quest to redeem it, Suezo continued on and repeated his well rehearsed line when the three soldiers approached them well before they reached the actual city gate. "Do you not know of Tawakoshi?" he asked slightly surprised, but he knew that it had been a very long journey so that these people might not be aware. The question didn't matter, because the generals he would be presented to probably would. He chose two samurai from the bunch that he trusted and bowed to the captain as he mounted three horses and relieved them of their packaging. "Don't worry about my men, they are very disciplined!" he ensured the captain as he followed him through the gates. "Who am I going to present myself to again?" he asked when they arrived before the back gate. In Tawakoshi knowing your status among those you spoke too was as important for a samurai as knowing the sharp side of the katana. (Sorry, I meant to write that people road out to meet Suezo before he blocked up the gates into Rondón with 200 foreign bodies. I thought I put it in the post, but I must have forgotten. My bad!) The guard gave a quick fire smile to Suezo when he asked who he was meeting. "You mean you have not heard of LaReina Xiomara?" He asked, good humor evident in his voice. "Wait here, and someone will see you shortly," the guard told the three men, not taking them to a room but letting them "loiter" in the wide hallway. Someone sent a runner to inform Xiomara of her foreign guests, and guards on duty tried not to stare at Suezo and his foreign guards too openly.
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Queen Xiomara of Rondón
Established
The Iron Rose
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: Appears 28 - 35 years old
Physical Description: ---------------
Tall, statuesque. Sable-haired with smooth, porcelain skin and tawny-gold eyes. She is always seen with red-painted lips, which lends to her nickname, the Iron Rose.
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Clothes and Equipment: Xiomara is always dressed as a queen should be. She can be gaudy and ostentatious when the occasion calls for it, but is usually dressed in more somber colors with accents of gold. She is never seen without a crown or coronet on her head.
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Registered: Apr 5, 2017 20:41:04 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Xiomara of Rondón on Jan 22, 2018 15:49:53 GMT -8
Alfonso absorbed the spicy rebuke made by the Iron Rose. If anything, his grin found new borders upon his cheeks. She was easy to flare up, it seemed; impulsive, maybe; metaphorically closer to a pepper than a rose. But Alfonso enjoyed it - admired it even. She may have thought lowly of Alfonso, and this was to be expected; she didn't truly need him, that was certain - she already had capable soldiers and commanders as it was. So he had to prove it to her. "If it's Beorn you, it is Beorn you shall have." He extended his arms, "but I've only a handful of men. If I am to attack a location such as Beorn... I will need an army. A Rondí army." El Diablo Encarnado shrugged. "But I am just a simple mercenary with no titles. My gifts mean nothing to you. You don't need me - you said it yourself." Alfonso rotated, as if he was prepared to leave, and then said "You'll know where to find me if you ever decide you do need me." The guards blocked his way when he would have left, brushing past the fierce-eyed queen and her crisply stated remarks. El Diablo's arrogance was palpable, and Xiomara knew it was one of the reasons he was so accomplished. He lacked fear, which could usually lead people to victory... But almost always led men to earlier deaths as well. "I didn't excuse you," the Queen said, turning where she stood to look back at El Diablo. "You'll have your title. And while you serve under Rondón's banner, you will obey her queen, her people, her law, and call yourself Commander. Win me Beorn, and perhaps you will gain more." A soft knock on the door had Xiomara's lioness' eyes leaving Alfonso's face to the guards where she nodded. One guard opened a door and a servant came in, bowing deeply to Xiomara before handing her a small missive. She read it and excused the servant with a wave of her hand, her signet ring gleaming in the natural sunlight that streamed through the windows. "Mm. It seems I am in no short supply of men calling themselves commander," Xiomara remarked, and lifted her stunning head to gift Alfonso with her visage. "You said at dawn. I suggest you familiarize yourself with your men in Centennial Park." Xiomara bowed her dark head, and she turned and walked away from Alfonso de Rondón. He may not have impressed her, but he did have her curiosity... ... Some five minutes later, a messenger came to Suezo Oguro and bade the Tawakoshi man and his guards to follow him to a "small" antechamber. Queen Xiomara was waiting, gowned handsomely, statuesque and every inch her reputation. She held out her hand in greeting. "Welcome to Rondón," she said to the foreigner. "This must be the first visit of your people to my land. Some year ago, I believe Lord Cordoba and his coterie made their way to Tawakoshi's shores." A mild pleasantry, but clearly she wanted to know more.
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Alfonso de Rondón
Established
"El Diablo Encarnado"
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 25
Physical Description: Alfonso is a man molded by the crucible of war. He stands an average height of 5'9, but sports an athletic build - striking a balance between strength and agility.
Faded green eyes are set upon a stoic yet handsome face, blemished only by a single scar that runs down his right cheek.
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Clothes and Equipment: Alfonso favors light armor that allows him greater mobility and flexibility, while still protecting vital areas. He is commonly seen wearing a combination of scale and leather armor.
Alfonso wields his father's sword in conjunction with a buckler or other shield. The hilt of the sword appears to be missing a gemstone or some other decorative piece. He always carries a set of javelins.
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Registered: Jan 13, 2018 6:45:54 GMT -8
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Post by Alfonso de Rondón on Jan 22, 2018 16:12:07 GMT -8
Alfonso smiled. Rather than let him walk out and carry on his merry way, the Iron Rose practically insisted he help her - or so he liked to think. He chuckled and turned back around on his heel. "Obey the queen... her people... her law... and call myself Commander? As I've stated, my Iron Pepper, I'm willing to swear an oath to you."
El Diablo Encarnado knew he was getting under the Queen's skin. He rotated and made his way for the door, whether it was still barred by the guards or not. "I will see to the fodder and make preparations to take Beorn. It shall be yours, my Queen." When he approached the door he would look at both guards. "I'm going to walk through this doorway, and you're gonna let me. On the other hand feel free to cut down your Queen's new Commander."
Assuming he was free to go, Alfonso would exit the room and descend to the Centennial Park.
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Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio
Established
The Crown Prince of Rondón
Roleplay posts: 44
Age: 19 Years
Physical Description: HT & WT: 5'11" & 185 lbs
SHAPE: Thin / Lean / Athletic
HR & EY: Brunette & Blue (from his Father's side)
SKIN: Light olive-tone
Clothes and Equipment: CLOTHES: Courtly, sophisticated, attired to occasion
JEWELRY: The Vinicio House Ring, rarely a crown, a simple necklace with a pendant of the Mother on it.
WEAPONS: ornate sabre, matching dagger
ARMOR: No armor unless noted in posts
STEED: Rondi-quality horse named Quixote
Allegiances: The Kingdom of Rondon, Queen Xiomara, House Vinicio
Registered: Apr 16, 2017 15:25:10 GMT -8
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Post by Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio on Jan 22, 2018 16:18:58 GMT -8
Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' Rafael's gaze was narrowed on the salt-weather captain in front of him, for all that the older, grizzled man displayed a charm that seemed waxed and smooth by the presence of gold and personal gain than it did anything else. "Yes, I am Crown Prince Rafael Carlos Montoban de Vinicio," he said, enunciating every word as he stepped a little closer and casually rested his hand on the handle of his sabre. The young man knew how to use it, and though he did now have some experience after going through the terror and trials that Helmfirth had presented, it was probably that Windfeld could have beat Rafael in a duel -- but not without enduring a few swipes from Rafael's own blade. "... You are the man that will be helping to carry our troops to LasIslas?" Rafael asked with a perk of his dark brow. "The Contested Islands are not easy to hold. It is the last place that any of the men want to be sent. Why are you so eager?" It was possible... completely possible... that Windfeld knew of the rumors of the underground caverns and caves of the isles, and the rumored treasures that might be beneath the mercurial waves that washed upon LasIslas shores. "Ohh how exiting! It's been a while since I was in the presence of a royal figure!" he said and lifted his hat as yet another of the many various gestures he made. Windfeld noted Rafael's hand casually readied at the hilt of his saber, but this was nothing knew when people spoke to Windfeld. Most people would be a little guarded in his presence - and besides the young people liked to puff themselves up when faced with danger. This was trifle though as he had no intention of fighting the young guy. No, the prince was a small sack of precious gold coins in Windfeld's eyes. Or at least he had access to them. "Yes yes... However would I earn the gold if not like that?" he said and smirked deviously. "And believe me... I have a few tricks up my sleeve that your 'armada' hasn't. My ship might not be biggest of galleons, but when she fires first - and she usually does - she leaves an impression..." he said with a faint smile. Windfeld was speaking in riddles, but he really did enjoy the thought of showing this young wellborn some of the finer points of 'pirateering' at some point. "Maybe we'll hold it, maybe we won't..." was Windfeld's ambiguous answer. "I can help you take it, but it's not really my 'forté' to secure a keep. But I can sure give them something else to think about." he said seemed to think back. "My own thought was too press on from there and put pressure on the bastards and destroy their fleets at Crestwatch and Starwatch. That way we won't have to 'hold' it." Windfeld said confidently. The young crown prince may have thought this guy's talk was pure bravado, but Windfeld liked to keep his cards close. "So about the gold! A little beforehand makes for a good mood among the crew I reckon." he said and grinned. Rest assured whether the crown prince was generous or not he would see to it that himself and the crew got what they came here for. Besides... He had studied those islands thoroughly through his spyglass and it seems the islands could very well contain the treasures it was rumoured to have inside its 'bowels'. Rafael was openly skeptical about Windfeld, keeping a cautious distance while his electric blue gaze seemed to twitch over Windfeld's form, memorizing small details that he hadn't noticed in his first perusal of the pirate. Pirate. Mercenary, Rafael supposed. He questioned why Xiomara would have wanted someone like Windfeld. Was honor not a virtue the Iron Rose wanted to hold to? Rafael supposed that the ends qualified the means, but the young Prince couldn't shake a feeling that Windfeld was too like the terrible people Rafael had escaped in Helmfirth. "Yes... Your men can be paid a portion now, and the rest once the war is over... If it's old gold you want," Rafael said. He paced slightly so a handsome leather chair was between himself and Windfeld. "I had a similar plan in mind for sacking Crestwatch and Starwatch. Ultimately I would like to destroy their towers completely, then continue sailing for Beorn, and ultimately, Zephyr. We would still need men to occupy and keep LasIslas, however..."
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Nineteen (The Crimson Book)
Established
Hahahahahahaha
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: Unknown, doesn't really matter.
Physical Description: It varies, currently the profile picture covers it for now though.
Clothes and Equipment: Grey Cloak.
Razor bladed knives.
Razors that extend from the bones that he has taken the form of.
Crimson Book of Spells
Player's online availability : I check periodically throughout most days.
Registered: Jan 12, 2018 14:22:34 GMT -8
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Post by Nineteen (The Crimson Book) on Jan 23, 2018 0:10:28 GMT -8
"Name...name...Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......Nineteen? Oh, you got more questions....well darn....My age? I litterly have no idea. Intent? Um, I like pie? Magic....I suck. I really really suck...any other potentially awkward questions I probably won't have the answers to?" The guards at the Gate to Rondón stared at the skeleton, then glanced between each other. A Rondí comment was made between them before they shook their heads and focused on Nineteen again. "We ask these questions to protect our queen, our city, and our people," the guard said in slowly spoken Common, Rondí accent thick. "Please take them seriously. Why are you here, and why do you want access to Rondón?" The guard asked the skeleton, given the skeleton hadn't understood what 'intent' meant. "Right. Um. Cause the other option is going back to the burnt fields of lavender and waiting to see if the edgelord comes back. Pie sounds more...fun."
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Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker'
Established
Roleplay posts: 43
Age: 48
Physical Description: Standing about 1.75 m tall, Windfeld is neither tall nor very muscular, though rugged and whether bitten are words that describe him well. Windfeld has a large, brown full beard and two eyes of different color each. His right is brown and the left is light blue and mostly kept behind a black patch.
Clothes and Equipment: Windfeld wears black boots, a large worn blue coat with a hat to match. Besides various exotic jewelry on his fingers, he wears a distinct necklace with a four leaf clover pendant with black gemstones and an carved ivory skull in the middle.
Registered: Nov 1, 2017 10:14:38 GMT -8
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Post by Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' on Jan 23, 2018 2:41:01 GMT -8
"Ohh how exiting! It's been a while since I was in the presence of a royal figure!" he said and lifted his hat as yet another of the many various gestures he made. Windfeld noted Rafael's hand casually readied at the hilt of his saber, but this was nothing knew when people spoke to Windfeld. Most people would be a little guarded in his presence - and besides the young people liked to puff themselves up when faced with danger. This was trifle though as he had no intention of fighting the young guy. No, the prince was a small sack of precious gold coins in Windfeld's eyes. Or at least he had access to them. "Yes yes... However would I earn the gold if not like that?" he said and smirked deviously. "And believe me... I have a few tricks up my sleeve that your 'armada' hasn't. My ship might not be biggest of galleons, but when she fires first - and she usually does - she leaves an impression..." he said with a faint smile. Windfeld was speaking in riddles, but he really did enjoy the thought of showing this young wellborn some of the finer points of 'pirateering' at some point. "Maybe we'll hold it, maybe we won't..." was Windfeld's ambiguous answer. "I can help you take it, but it's not really my 'forté' to secure a keep. But I can sure give them something else to think about." he said seemed to think back. "My own thought was too press on from there and put pressure on the bastards and destroy their fleets at Crestwatch and Starwatch. That way we won't have to 'hold' it." Windfeld said confidently. The young crown prince may have thought this guy's talk was pure bravado, but Windfeld liked to keep his cards close. "So about the gold! A little beforehand makes for a good mood among the crew I reckon." he said and grinned. Rest assured whether the crown prince was generous or not he would see to it that himself and the crew got what they came here for. Besides... He had studied those islands thoroughly through his spyglass and it seems the islands could very well contain the treasures it was rumoured to have inside its 'bowels'. Rafael was openly skeptical about Windfeld, keeping a cautious distance while his electric blue gaze seemed to twitch over Windfeld's form, memorizing small details that he hadn't noticed in his first perusal of the pirate. Pirate. Mercenary, Rafael supposed. He questioned why Xiomara would have wanted someone like Windfeld. Was honor not a virtue the Iron Rose wanted to hold to? Rafael supposed that the ends qualified the means, but the young Prince couldn't shake a feeling that Windfeld was too like the terrible people Rafael had escaped in Helmfirth. "Yes... Your men can be paid a portion now, and the rest once the war is over... If it's old gold you want," Rafael said. He paced slightly so a handsome leather chair was between himself and Windfeld. "I had a similar plan in mind for sacking Crestwatch and Starwatch. Ultimately I would like to destroy their towers completely, then continue sailing for Beorn, and ultimately, Zephyr. We would still need men to occupy and keep LasIslas, however..." He was an annoying little bugger this one. First he would puff himself up and now he would keep his distance with a chair between them. Was he even qualified to lead anyone if he couldn't take a decision? Windfeld hadn't been captain of his own ship forever, and he knew that an indecisive captain could mean the difference between success or failure. However Windfeld wasn't there to babysit some young noble - and the gold didn't matter if he would lead them all to their doom. In fact it was the duty of a pirate to make sure that the captain was strong enough and keep him on his toes. It would just be a little test. Windfeld ignored Rafael's words for now and with a couple of determined steps he closed the distance kicked the chair away making sure he was within striking distance before putting his hand on the cutlass' hilt intending to draw it. "What would you do if there was a mutiny... captain?" Windfeld asked with a sly grin. "Taking anything from anyone requires that you don't mourn their loss. Would you have sympathy when you cut me down? Would you hesitate..?" he asked mockingly and paused. "Would you... cry..?" Windfeld wanted to see a definite answer of some kind. If this guy was too easily spooked, the gold didn't matter. And tactics could be discussed if Rafael proved to be a man.
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Suezo Oguro
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: 32
Physical Description: A muscular and athletic build with straight black hair that reaches down a little bit beyond his shoulders when not braided into a ponytail.
Clothes and Equipment: Usually wears the heavy armor of the shogun which carries his insignia. He uses a finely made katana and wakizashi for battle, but is adept at naginata too.
Allegiances: Tawakoshi
Registered: Jan 18, 2018 0:00:34 GMT -8
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Post by Suezo Oguro on Jan 23, 2018 3:08:28 GMT -8
... Some five minutes later, a messenger came to Suezo Oguro and bade the Tawakoshi man and his guards to follow him to a "small" antechamber. Queen Xiomara was waiting, gowned handsomely, statuesque and every inch her reputation. She held out her hand in greeting. "Welcome to Rondón," she said to the foreigner. "This must be the first visit of your people to my land. Some year ago, I believe Lord Cordoba and his coterie made their way to Tawakoshi's shores." A mild pleasantry, but clearly she wanted to know more. Suezo would take a few steps into the antechamber but keep a fair distance between the two before bowing deeply. His two men would do the same before they took a seat on the floor a little behind Suezo. He was a slightly anxious standing before the queen as he didn't know the customs of this country. In Tawakoshi he had been familiar with what every little change of facial expression would mean and how a slight change of posture might mean that now was the time to excuse yourself and leave. Thus Suezo would start with an apology. "I am sorry that my manners may be rude to you. The language of Tawakoshi and Rondón differs in more than just words..." he said before not knowing what more to say. The queen had stretched out her hand to greet him but he did not know what that meant. "I have heard of Lord Cordoba but regrettably I haven't had the chance to meet him." Suezo said politely, thinking that the conversation was at least moving forward and felt slightly less nervous. "Rondón is a beautiful country and their people seem honorable. This I suspect has much to do with their queen." he said and bowed again. She was beautiful and carried herself with an authority and elegance that seemed striking to Suezo. The pleasentries ended far to early if you asked Suezo. This was something he was relatively skilled in - at least in Tawakoshi. Explaining why they were here was something he was far less keen to do, but did pick up that this was what the queen wanted to know. "We have been sent from Tawakoshi from clan Hizashi to aid Rondón in their war against Zephyr. I have two hundred men travelling along with me and clan Hizashi hopes this could be the start of an alliance between Rondón and Tawakoshi!" he said firmly, as if he hoped that this information would be sufficient and she would not ask more in depth to why they were here. Being a disgraced samurai he and his soldiers were sent here to regain their honor and they were technically 'ronin'. A larger disgrace was almost impossible for a samurai.
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Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio
Established
The Crown Prince of Rondón
Roleplay posts: 44
Age: 19 Years
Physical Description: HT & WT: 5'11" & 185 lbs
SHAPE: Thin / Lean / Athletic
HR & EY: Brunette & Blue (from his Father's side)
SKIN: Light olive-tone
Clothes and Equipment: CLOTHES: Courtly, sophisticated, attired to occasion
JEWELRY: The Vinicio House Ring, rarely a crown, a simple necklace with a pendant of the Mother on it.
WEAPONS: ornate sabre, matching dagger
ARMOR: No armor unless noted in posts
STEED: Rondi-quality horse named Quixote
Allegiances: The Kingdom of Rondon, Queen Xiomara, House Vinicio
Registered: Apr 16, 2017 15:25:10 GMT -8
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Post by Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio on Jan 24, 2018 18:43:20 GMT -8
Rafael was openly skeptical about Windfeld, keeping a cautious distance while his electric blue gaze seemed to twitch over Windfeld's form, memorizing small details that he hadn't noticed in his first perusal of the pirate. Pirate. Mercenary, Rafael supposed. He questioned why Xiomara would have wanted someone like Windfeld. Was honor not a virtue the Iron Rose wanted to hold to? Rafael supposed that the ends qualified the means, but the young Prince couldn't shake a feeling that Windfeld was too like the terrible people Rafael had escaped in Helmfirth. "Yes... Your men can be paid a portion now, and the rest once the war is over... If it's old gold you want," Rafael said. He paced slightly so a handsome leather chair was between himself and Windfeld. "I had a similar plan in mind for sacking Crestwatch and Starwatch. Ultimately I would like to destroy their towers completely, then continue sailing for Beorn, and ultimately, Zephyr. We would still need men to occupy and keep LasIslas, however..." He was an annoying little bugger this one. First he would puff himself up and now he would keep his distance with a chair between them. Was he even qualified to lead anyone if he couldn't take a decision? Windfeld hadn't been captain of his own ship forever, and he knew that an indecisive captain could mean the difference between success or failure. However Windfeld wasn't there to babysit some young noble - and the gold didn't matter if he would lead them all to their doom. In fact it was the duty of a pirate to make sure that the captain was strong enough and keep him on his toes. It would just be a little test. Windfeld ignored Rafael's words for now and with a couple of determined steps he closed the distance kicked the chair away making sure he was within striking distance before putting his hand on the cutlass' hilt intending to draw it. "What would you do if there was a mutiny... captain?" Windfeld asked with a sly grin. "Taking anything from anyone requires that you don't mourn their loss. Would you have sympathy when you cut me down? Would you hesitate..?" he asked mockingly and paused. "Would you... cry..?" Windfeld wanted to see a definite answer of some kind. If this guy was too easily spooked, the gold didn't matter. And tactics could be discussed if Rafael proved to be a man. The Crown Prince of Rondón reacted instinctively -- after all, he had only recently escaped the Horror of Helmfirth within the last month. Lightning crackled from his electric blue eyes and sizzled down his arm to the hand that clenched around the pommel of his handsome sabre and half-drew it from its scabbard-- -- before he got a hold of himself. The prince had rocked smoothly onto his back foot, showing that he was trained and did have some talent with the blade. The fine hairs along his back and body and neck were standing on end as static electricity charged through the air, and his glowing gaze narrowed on the Captain Windfeld. " There won't be a mutiny. I mean to have LasIslas, and so I will. You should not doubt the Rondí when there is something we want," the prince said, aware that the sea dog was closer than he would have liked, but unwilling to back down as well. He was aching and sore from his practice before, but the charge of magic through his blood made him feel as if he had a second wind. " I would step wisely," Rafael cautioned the man, still faintly crackling. " Your ship may have tricks, but the Rondí have many, many ships and many, many men that will die for this cause -- or any cause if its for the honor of Rondón. We will not lose this war. We've ached for it too long."
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Queen Xiomara of Rondón
Established
The Iron Rose
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: Appears 28 - 35 years old
Physical Description: ---------------
Tall, statuesque. Sable-haired with smooth, porcelain skin and tawny-gold eyes. She is always seen with red-painted lips, which lends to her nickname, the Iron Rose.
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Clothes and Equipment: Xiomara is always dressed as a queen should be. She can be gaudy and ostentatious when the occasion calls for it, but is usually dressed in more somber colors with accents of gold. She is never seen without a crown or coronet on her head.
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Registered: Apr 5, 2017 20:41:04 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Xiomara of Rondón on Jan 24, 2018 18:49:05 GMT -8
... Some five minutes later, a messenger came to Suezo Oguro and bade the Tawakoshi man and his guards to follow him to a "small" antechamber. Queen Xiomara was waiting, gowned handsomely, statuesque and every inch her reputation. She held out her hand in greeting. "Welcome to Rondón," she said to the foreigner. "This must be the first visit of your people to my land. Some year ago, I believe Lord Cordoba and his coterie made their way to Tawakoshi's shores." A mild pleasantry, but clearly she wanted to know more. Suezo would take a few steps into the antechamber but keep a fair distance between the two before bowing deeply. His two men would do the same before they took a seat on the floor a little behind Suezo. He was a slightly anxious standing before the queen as he didn't know the customs of this country. In Tawakoshi he had been familiar with what every little change of facial expression would mean and how a slight change of posture might mean that now was the time to excuse yourself and leave. Thus Suezo would start with an apology. "I am sorry that my manners may be rude to you. The language of Tawakoshi and Rondón differs in more than just words..." he said before not knowing what more to say. The queen had stretched out her hand to greet him but he did not know what that meant. "I have heard of Lord Cordoba but regrettably I haven't had the chance to meet him." Suezo said politely, thinking that the conversation was at least moving forward and felt slightly less nervous. "Rondón is a beautiful country and their people seem honorable. This I suspect has much to do with their queen." he said and bowed again. She was beautiful and carried herself with an authority and elegance that seemed striking to Suezo. The pleasentries ended far to early if you asked Suezo. This was something he was relatively skilled in - at least in Tawakoshi. Explaining why they were here was something he was far less keen to do, but did pick up that this was what the queen wanted to know. "We have been sent from Tawakoshi from clan Hizashi to aid Rondón in their war against Zephyr. I have two hundred men travelling along with me and clan Hizashi hopes this could be the start of an alliance between Rondón and Tawakoshi!" he said firmly, as if he hoped that this information would be sufficient and she would not ask more in depth to why they were here. Being a disgraced samurai he and his soldiers were sent here to regain their honor and they were technically 'ronin'. A larger disgrace was almost impossible for a samurai. She drew her hand back when Suezo did not take it, identifying that he wasn't aware what should be done with it. Interesting. The Tawakoshi must not have had much experience with foreign cultures, as she assumed this man was of some sort of important ranking. Her gaze was direct, tawny gold glinting in the orange sunlight of a coming dusk that drifted through the windows of the room. He complimented her country, her people, her, but it was the sort of words that Xiomara had heard a thousand times or more from every manner of dignitary, including Suezo. She was not complimented. Any smart diplomat would have flattered the leader of such a country. Unlike Suezo, she did not entirely enjoy pleasantries and preferred to get right into the thick of things. Still, pleasantries had to be dealt with, and it was safer to fall back to flattery and potentially make an ally than to start with the meat of a conversation and risk insulting someone. " Your timing is perfect, then," Queen Xiomara said. " We leave for war at dawn, and the help of 200 more men would be appreciated. I am assuming you have brought correspondence and paperwork from Tawakoshi?"
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The Kingdom of Rondón
Committed
Seeking fearless soldiers, merchants, and frontiersmen
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: 400 - 450 years old
Physical Description: Gist: Having just recently conquered their neighboring kingdom of Zephyr, Rondón is going through a golden age, and its Queen is commissioning sea captains as privateers to explore and colonize nearby islands to bring underneath Rondón's green banner.
Capital City: Vinicio, formerly Rondón
Other Major Cities: Selanca, DeRuiz, Baloncia, Brais, Port Calar, Sincaro
Primary Language: Rondi (Fantasy Spanish)
Clothes and Equipment: Ruler: Queen Xiomara Vinicio
Heir: Prince Rafael, Princess Arenna
Primary Export: Gold, stone, wine, horses, lumber, iron, olives, luxury goods
Registered: Apr 5, 2017 19:08:47 GMT -8
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Post by The Kingdom of Rondón on Jan 24, 2018 18:59:32 GMT -8
Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker', Eric, Jack, Merryman Humour, Roxanne Fletcher, Orianna, Medya, @soraya, @diego, Feanor Vala, City of Khaldaruhm, City of Mithlonde, Duke Nicolas Soult, Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio, @mireia, Gabriel Taurtoya, Sincarro, Kirian Krysin, Alfonso de Rondón, Suezo Oguro, Nineteen (The Crimson Book),
THE WAR HAD BEGUN
All of those who had a desire for gold, glory, and blood were designated to their appropriate legions, plans vaguely detailed to the foot soldiers and more in depth for the higher-ranked officers. It would be assumed that all person(s) would have passed their examinations, their information taken down and accorded for.
Then, they were all sent on their way, the entire people of Rondón calling and singing to them, banners waving, flower petals drifting, kisses given as the nation rode high on the morale that they couldn't possible lose, and the Gods were on their side.
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Nineteen (The Crimson Book)
Established
Hahahahahahaha
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: Unknown, doesn't really matter.
Physical Description: It varies, currently the profile picture covers it for now though.
Clothes and Equipment: Grey Cloak.
Razor bladed knives.
Razors that extend from the bones that he has taken the form of.
Crimson Book of Spells
Player's online availability : I check periodically throughout most days.
Registered: Jan 12, 2018 14:22:34 GMT -8
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Post by Nineteen (The Crimson Book) on Jan 25, 2018 1:25:16 GMT -8
Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' , Eric , Jack , Merryman Humour , Roxanne Fletcher , Orianna , Medya , @soraya , @diego , Feanor Vala , City of Khaldaruhm , City of Mithlonde , Duke Nicolas Soult , Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio , @mireia , Gabriel Taurtoya , Sincarro , Kirian Krysin , Alfonso de Rondón , Suezo Oguro , Nineteen (The Crimson Book) ,
THE WAR HAD BEGUN
All of those who had a desire for gold, glory, and blood were designated to their appropriate legions, plans vaguely detailed to the foot soldiers and more in depth for the higher-ranked officers. It would be assumed that all person(s) would have passed their examinations, their information taken down and accorded for.
Then, they were all sent on their way, the entire people of Rondón calling and singing to them, banners waving, flower petals drifting, kisses given as the nation rode high on the morale that they couldn't possible lose, and the Gods were on their side.
Crimson Nineteen having convinced the guards through an hour's long drilling of intent. Just follows along to wherever the army goes. He begins to sing a bit under his breath, "We're off to see the Wizard..."
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Suezo Oguro
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: 32
Physical Description: A muscular and athletic build with straight black hair that reaches down a little bit beyond his shoulders when not braided into a ponytail.
Clothes and Equipment: Usually wears the heavy armor of the shogun which carries his insignia. He uses a finely made katana and wakizashi for battle, but is adept at naginata too.
Allegiances: Tawakoshi
Registered: Jan 18, 2018 0:00:34 GMT -8
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Post by Suezo Oguro on Jan 25, 2018 10:14:54 GMT -8
Suezo would take a few steps into the antechamber but keep a fair distance between the two before bowing deeply. His two men would do the same before they took a seat on the floor a little behind Suezo. He was a slightly anxious standing before the queen as he didn't know the customs of this country. In Tawakoshi he had been familiar with what every little change of facial expression would mean and how a slight change of posture might mean that now was the time to excuse yourself and leave. Thus Suezo would start with an apology. "I am sorry that my manners may be rude to you. The language of Tawakoshi and Rondón differs in more than just words..." he said before not knowing what more to say. The queen had stretched out her hand to greet him but he did not know what that meant. "I have heard of Lord Cordoba but regrettably I haven't had the chance to meet him." Suezo said politely, thinking that the conversation was at least moving forward and felt slightly less nervous. "Rondón is a beautiful country and their people seem honorable. This I suspect has much to do with their queen." he said and bowed again. She was beautiful and carried herself with an authority and elegance that seemed striking to Suezo. The pleasentries ended far to early if you asked Suezo. This was something he was relatively skilled in - at least in Tawakoshi. Explaining why they were here was something he was far less keen to do, but did pick up that this was what the queen wanted to know. "We have been sent from Tawakoshi from clan Hizashi to aid Rondón in their war against Zephyr. I have two hundred men travelling along with me and clan Hizashi hopes this could be the start of an alliance between Rondón and Tawakoshi!" he said firmly, as if he hoped that this information would be sufficient and she would not ask more in depth to why they were here. Being a disgraced samurai he and his soldiers were sent here to regain their honor and they were technically 'ronin'. A larger disgrace was almost impossible for a samurai. She drew her hand back when Suezo did not take it, identifying that he wasn't aware what should be done with it. Interesting. The Tawakoshi must not have had much experience with foreign cultures, as she assumed this man was of some sort of important ranking. Her gaze was direct, tawny gold glinting in the orange sunlight of a coming dusk that drifted through the windows of the room. He complimented her country, her people, her, but it was the sort of words that Xiomara had heard a thousand times or more from every manner of dignitary, including Suezo. She was not complimented. Any smart diplomat would have flattered the leader of such a country. Unlike Suezo, she did not entirely enjoy pleasantries and preferred to get right into the thick of things. Still, pleasantries had to be dealt with, and it was safer to fall back to flattery and potentially make an ally than to start with the meat of a conversation and risk insulting someone. " Your timing is perfect, then," Queen Xiomara said. " We leave for war at dawn, and the help of 200 more men would be appreciated. I am assuming you have brought correspondence and paperwork from Tawakoshi?" Suezo started to feel slightly nervous again seeing the queen's facial expression. His polite praise had not hit home at all and he was at a loss for what to do. At this point in Tawakoshi one would excuse himself and leave as fast as possible, but something in her eyes held him in place. "We will give our lives for Rondón as we have promised clan Hizashi." he said formally and handed the queen the papers that explained why they were there. The essence of the papers was a wish for stronger relations between Tawakoshi and Rondón and these two hundred samurai could be seen as a 'gift' with the hopes if receiving something in return should the queen chose to accept it. That something was usually a formal meeting and exchange of pleasantries - that might lead to some sort of alliance. That it was a gift that signified an intention of alliance should be clear to the queen.
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Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker'
Established
Roleplay posts: 43
Age: 48
Physical Description: Standing about 1.75 m tall, Windfeld is neither tall nor very muscular, though rugged and whether bitten are words that describe him well. Windfeld has a large, brown full beard and two eyes of different color each. His right is brown and the left is light blue and mostly kept behind a black patch.
Clothes and Equipment: Windfeld wears black boots, a large worn blue coat with a hat to match. Besides various exotic jewelry on his fingers, he wears a distinct necklace with a four leaf clover pendant with black gemstones and an carved ivory skull in the middle.
Registered: Nov 1, 2017 10:14:38 GMT -8
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Post by Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' on Jan 25, 2018 10:38:15 GMT -8
He was an annoying little bugger this one. First he would puff himself up and now he would keep his distance with a chair between them. Was he even qualified to lead anyone if he couldn't take a decision? Windfeld hadn't been captain of his own ship forever, and he knew that an indecisive captain could mean the difference between success or failure. However Windfeld wasn't there to babysit some young noble - and the gold didn't matter if he would lead them all to their doom. In fact it was the duty of a pirate to make sure that the captain was strong enough and keep him on his toes. It would just be a little test. Windfeld ignored Rafael's words for now and with a couple of determined steps he closed the distance kicked the chair away making sure he was within striking distance before putting his hand on the cutlass' hilt intending to draw it. "What would you do if there was a mutiny... captain?" Windfeld asked with a sly grin. "Taking anything from anyone requires that you don't mourn their loss. Would you have sympathy when you cut me down? Would you hesitate..?" he asked mockingly and paused. "Would you... cry..?" Windfeld wanted to see a definite answer of some kind. If this guy was too easily spooked, the gold didn't matter. And tactics could be discussed if Rafael proved to be a man. The Crown Prince of Rondón reacted instinctively -- after all, he had only recently escaped the Horror of Helmfirth within the last month. Lightning crackled from his electric blue eyes and sizzled down his arm to the hand that clenched around the pommel of his handsome sabre and half-drew it from its scabbard-- -- before he got a hold of himself. The prince had rocked smoothly onto his back foot, showing that he was trained and did have some talent with the blade. The fine hairs along his back and body and neck were standing on end as static electricity charged through the air, and his glowing gaze narrowed on the Captain Windfeld. " There won't be a mutiny. I mean to have LasIslas, and so I will. You should not doubt the Rondí when there is something we want," the prince said, aware that the sea dog was closer than he would have liked, but unwilling to back down as well. He was aching and sore from his practice before, but the charge of magic through his blood made him feel as if he had a second wind. " I would step wisely," Rafael cautioned the man, still faintly crackling. " Your ship may have tricks, but the Rondí have many, many ships and many, many men that will die for this cause -- or any cause if its for the honor of Rondón. We will not lose this war. We've ached for it too long." Windfeld's smile turned into a sly grin. "So you do have in you..." he said and relaxed again. The boy even had some magic abilities on top of what did look like guts. Of course he was inside his own castle with thousands of guards at his disposal, but still Windfeld noticed his determination. He could at least respect that, and since respect between pirates took time to form, this was a compliment to the young prince's attitude and words. It was clearly more than bravado. "Well this makes me so happy that I didn't get to meet whomever you got that fiery temper from..!" he said and couldn't help but laugh. "Don't you worry about my steps. I'm too old not to care about who I step on." he said and casually turned around to put a bit of distance between them again. "The plan you mentioned beforehand..." he said and mused. "I'm sure the Rondí army is better trained and better armed than my men, so it would make no sense to have us guard some barren island. We are sea dogs, and if you let us maneuver freely, I'm sure you'll see the benefit." Windfeld said and gave a wide smile to reveal his less than well kept teeth.
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Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio
Established
The Crown Prince of Rondón
Roleplay posts: 44
Age: 19 Years
Physical Description: HT & WT: 5'11" & 185 lbs
SHAPE: Thin / Lean / Athletic
HR & EY: Brunette & Blue (from his Father's side)
SKIN: Light olive-tone
Clothes and Equipment: CLOTHES: Courtly, sophisticated, attired to occasion
JEWELRY: The Vinicio House Ring, rarely a crown, a simple necklace with a pendant of the Mother on it.
WEAPONS: ornate sabre, matching dagger
ARMOR: No armor unless noted in posts
STEED: Rondi-quality horse named Quixote
Allegiances: The Kingdom of Rondon, Queen Xiomara, House Vinicio
Registered: Apr 16, 2017 15:25:10 GMT -8
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Post by Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio on Jan 25, 2018 16:29:35 GMT -8
Rafael's glare did not lift, even at Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker''s pleased smile that the 'boy' seemed to be on the verge of manhood itself, if not already there and just beginning. He remained quiet where he stood, his eyes glowing that brilliant blue and his hand still gripped around his sword... but when Windfeld stepped away and put distance between them again, he eased the blade back into the sheathe at his hip. "I will be sure to let the Queen know of your pleasure," Rafael said from the side of his mouth when Windfeld chuckled about where it "was" that Rafael had gotten his temperament. Honestly, Rafael was usually much more laid back, much more charming -- but too-recent circumstances and the coming war had someone "dampened" the usual swagger and amiability that was usually the prince's constant companion. Rafael gestured to maps that were laid out in the table of the study. They were focused on the islands, so it was clear that Rafael usually used this room to discuss what he might be doing with his other men at arms. "Let a fish be fish, as the Rondi would say," Rafael said to Windfeld, his tone too even to suggest that he was comfortable in the pirate's gap-toothed presence. "My men will take the shores, but you will have to engage the Zephyy ships and keep them occupied. I don't imagine we will have much battle on these two islands," he gestured the two that were closest to Rondon's territories, "but the other two they will try to prevent us from taking. On low tide, there are sandbars that connect here, and here," he pointed to a location between the first and second island, and the second and third island. "Hopefully by the time we come to this final island, most of the Zephyy will be dead. Otherwise, the men will need to be ferried to that fourth island." Rafael braced his hands upon the table and looked down at the map, then over at Windfeld. Was he here for the caves? Rafael had no idea if he could trust him or not...
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Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker'
Established
Roleplay posts: 43
Age: 48
Physical Description: Standing about 1.75 m tall, Windfeld is neither tall nor very muscular, though rugged and whether bitten are words that describe him well. Windfeld has a large, brown full beard and two eyes of different color each. His right is brown and the left is light blue and mostly kept behind a black patch.
Clothes and Equipment: Windfeld wears black boots, a large worn blue coat with a hat to match. Besides various exotic jewelry on his fingers, he wears a distinct necklace with a four leaf clover pendant with black gemstones and an carved ivory skull in the middle.
Registered: Nov 1, 2017 10:14:38 GMT -8
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Post by Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' on Jan 26, 2018 15:23:12 GMT -8
Rafael's glare did not lift, even at Windfeld 'Sea-shrieker' 's pleased smile that the 'boy' seemed to be on the verge of manhood itself, if not already there and just beginning. He remained quiet where he stood, his eyes glowing that brilliant blue and his hand still gripped around his sword... but when Windfeld stepped away and put distance between them again, he eased the blade back into the sheathe at his hip. "I will be sure to let the Queen know of your pleasure," Rafael said from the side of his mouth when Windfeld chuckled about where it "was" that Rafael had gotten his temperament. Honestly, Rafael was usually much more laid back, much more charming -- but too-recent circumstances and the coming war had someone "dampened" the usual swagger and amiability that was usually the prince's constant companion. Rafael gestured to maps that were laid out in the table of the study. They were focused on the islands, so it was clear that Rafael usually used this room to discuss what he might be doing with his other men at arms. "Let a fish be fish, as the Rondi would say," Rafael said to Windfeld, his tone too even to suggest that he was comfortable in the pirate's gap-toothed presence. "My men will take the shores, but you will have to engage the Zephyy ships and keep them occupied. I don't imagine we will have much battle on these two islands," he gestured the two that were closest to Rondon's territories, "but the other two they will try to prevent us from taking. On low tide, there are sandbars that connect here, and here," he pointed to a location between the first and second island, and the second and third island. "Hopefully by the time we come to this final island, most of the Zephyy will be dead. Otherwise, the men will need to be ferried to that fourth island." Rafael braced his hands upon the table and looked down at the map, then over at Windfeld. Was he here for the caves? Rafael had no idea if he could trust him or not... "You're a tense guy!" Windfeld announced and grinned. In some way Windfeld liked this guy, he showed that he was serious about the things he wanted and was going to use any means necessary for him to succeed. Looking at the map Windfeld turned to Rafael again. "I like fish!" he answered to Rafael's 'hard to interpret' comment intended to put things behind them. Windfeld didn't think there was much to put behind them anyway and he enjoyed teasing him a bit. "Engage the enemy ships?!?! Hahaha!" Windfeld laughed and slapped his belly. "Well that's easier said than done! Aren't you going to provide a bit of backup there? I mean she's a pretty boat, bot not exactly a galleon!" he said and smirked. Sure the pirate's ship was lethal when it mattered, but he much preferred to not be in the line of fire when things got messy. "Think... 'element of surprise'. Me and my guys are VERY lethal when they don't see us coming." Windfeld argued firmly. If they were to be of any help, he needed Rafael to understand how to use their strengths and not see them as another toy ship to send straight into its doom. "My ship is no 'ferry'..." Windfeld said narrowed his eyes - though of course only one was visible. "Anyone who steps onto my ship are mine to command." he added as if that was not for discussion. "However you and your men are most welcome under our banner following the ship rules." he said and smirked. It was a welcome but one of limited hospitality. Windfeld looked at the caves on the map and mentally marked their position in his mind. In any case a pirate could be trusted at least to take any opportunity given to him, and letting this go seemed foolish to Windfeld - war or not. This however would not mean that he would abandon any former alliances. He might just have to... take a brake from fighting. He was far too curious about where this fight would lead him than to just take the treasure and run. "So... seeing that we agree..." Windfeld boldly concluded as he brought down a bottle of the blackest rum imaginable on the table. "Let's drink to it! You like wine in Rondón right? Well this is sort of that... With a twist!" he said as he looked around for any cabinet inside the room with cups or glasses inside. If finding what he looked for he looked for, he would pour the obsidian colored rum until it reached the edge of the glass and downed it after toasting. "Death to Zephyr! Victory to Rondón! And a bit of luck down our throat!" he said excited as he emptied it in one go keeping a plain face before looking at Rafael to see if he would follow through. "It's not bad, come on!" he would encourage. However that would be a straight lie to most normal human beings, the rum being made from whale oil, a malign kind of carnivorous seaweed and the blood of several snakes. It would taste like death and decay, however when the initial shock of the hideous taste combined with a feeling of molting lava in your throat receded, positive effects like near perfect resistance towards cold for days and a stronger and faster communication between mind and muscles would be apparent.
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Henry Walworth
Committed
Roleplay posts: 69
Age: 34
Physical Description: If one were to tell you Henry was a pirate, you would believe that person almost immediately. Something about his tall bearing, the gruffness of voice, the gray hairs starting to penetrate his usually copper mane and well kept beard and mustache, not to mention the scars that crease his face, all scream rogue.
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Clothes and Equipment: Henry usually wears a tan luxurious silken robe and brown breeches, with a white shirt underneath, all secured with a crimson red sash and a brown leather belt. His two handed saber rests in its scabbard attached to his belt, along with his long, thin dagger. When on land and in battle, he wears his brown leather boots, but while at sea, he prefers to be barefoot to grip onto the slippery deck better.
For battle, he wears a blackened burgonet to protect his head, and a blackened cuirass to protect his torso. He also dons leather gloves, with large steel studs sowed onto the knuckles.
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Registered: Mar 25, 2018 18:46:43 GMT -8
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Post by Henry Walworth on Mar 27, 2018 18:03:25 GMT -8
The Red Dragon Tavern lay in the cheap side of Rondon down by the docks, and reflected its location. Outside, the tan stone walls were stained from mud and less than sanitary habitats of its patrons. Inside, it was dimly lit by candles set in wall sconces, with a bar running on one end, and cracked tables and chairs filling the worn and dirty red tile floor. A great hearth was set on the opposite wall of the hearth, with a large pot full of perpetual stew full of various vegetables and varieties of fish.
The clientele was composed of sailors and dockworkers, drinking cheap beers and wagering their meager earnings on games of dice and cards, occasionally brawling over the outcomes. The Red Dragon didn't only serve as the haunt for sailors and dockworkers, it also housed various unsavory characters. Whether offering or looking for work of a less than legal status, there was always someone to be found around the tables.
Tonight was no different, as a tall man stepped under the alcove that served as protection against the drizzle that turned the streets into a quagmire. He wore a simple brown cloak with the hood up to keep off the worst of the rain, stripping it off as he entered the main room. He first walked to the bar, and placed a gold coin on the bar with a knowing nod to the innkeep, who returned the nod before scooping the coin off the counter and into his pocket. This would serve as a sign that the man was looking for workers.
He found a table on the far side of the room by the hearth, and staked a claim to the chair that was in the corner. The serving wench came by with a tankard of semi-cool beer, and a bowl of soup, leaving it to the man without a word, who tore into the warm stew with zeal.
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Gerald Neumann
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 37
Physical Description: Stands at 5'11", lean and muscular with sinewy arms. Gerald has pale blue eyes, his reddish hair is kept short and keeps cleanly shaven when possible, with the exception of his side muttons chops. Gerald has no visible scars, two small gold ring piercings in his ears, and a few tattoos. Those being: A small nautical star for good luck on the right side of his chest, his initials in a decorative script on his right breast, a plain black anchor on his left forearm, a red and blue swallow on his right bicep, and a large depiction of a mermaid half out of water, long locks covering her bare chest, across his back.
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Clothes and Equipment: A dirty white and loose fitting blouse with red horizontal strips covered by a thin brown leather vest with red vertical strips. Brown gloves to keep his hands warm, but finger-less to enable more precision when tying knots. Trousers that are brown wool and stained by the salty sea, and thick black leather boots.
He carries a cutlass on his hip, a hatchet tucked in his trouser's waistband, and a dagger hidden in his right boot. His other miscellaneous equipment includes a basic compass, two water skins(one for holding liquor) and some personal items such as a deck of playing cards and ten dice.
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Registered: Mar 26, 2018 15:55:45 GMT -8
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Post by Gerald Neumann on Mar 27, 2018 22:09:13 GMT -8
In a dark corner of the Red Dragon Tavern laid a man, alone, the faint glow of a candle highlighting his ginger hair, but little else. One arm was on the table, a wooden mug gripped in his resting hand, and a leg was sprawled out on the booth, his booted foot next to his cloth sack of personal items, just barely touching. His head was tilted back against the rough backrest of the booth, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he lightly snored. To the untrained eye, the mysterious man appeared to be asleep, the sack by his foot awfully inviting and seemingly easy to take. To the experienced, however, one would notice his free hand resting across his waist, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his cutlass, and that the sack was just close enough to the man's foot for him to feel it move.
Off by the great hearth sat a street urchin warming himself up by the fire. He had been staring at the sleeping man for nearly an hour, making sure he was really, truly, asleep and, before he could be shooed away from the hearth, he slinked off towards the back corner, taking very tentative steps towards the man, careful not to make a noise. Not that it would've mattered much, for the patrons were making enough noise to mask his footsteps. Though his eyes were focused on the man, he did periodically shoot side glances to make sure no one was paying him any attention as he made his way over. None of the patrons so much as looked in the boy's direction. In a dark and seedy place such as this, no one cared enough to stop the boy from his mission to rob his mark.
The journey was quick, and the urchin reached out with a small hand towards the cloth sack, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the slumbering man's own. The boy's reach was painfully slow, for he was very careful. Little fingers closed around the rough, thin braided rope keeping the sacked tightly tied, and gently pulled up ever so slighty, but that was enough. Like lightning, the man's cutlass suddenly swung down and smacked the top of the boy's hand with the flat of the blade, seemingly having come from nowhere. The boy sucked in a breath and his brain told his body to recoil, the smack having stung his hand and the movement surprised him, yet he made no move. His eyes dropped to his hand and widened as he saw a single drop of his red blood roll down around his finger and drip onto the sack. Though the flat of the blade was pressing hard on the top of his hand, the highly sharp edge was pressed just enough against his lower knuckles to cut him if he moved too quickly.
The man was wide awake now, his blue eyes fully open and staring down at the urchin, a tired smirk playing across his features. His left hand still clutched the tankard.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to steal from the poor? You could lose a finger." the man asked the boy, his voice a gruff whisper, his accent thick, nearly butchering the Rondi words. The man lifted the cutlass a tad and gestured with his chin. "Beat it." Daring not to respond, not even to mention his lack of a mother, the urchin retreated backward until he tripped, falling on his bum. Panicking, he scrambled on all fours until he was standing and ran out of the tavern, clutching his bleeding hand tightly.
Sheathing his cutlass, the man chuckled as he watched the little one scurry out. Good thing, too, otherwise he might've missed the newcomer that had come in. Sitting fully upright and narrowing his eyes, he watched the hooded figure walk to the bar and slip the tavern keeper a gold coin. He might be getting up there in years, but his eyes were still as sharp as a hawk's, and he was experienced enough to know what just took place. The newcomer needed some...advertising done, and that meant work. Work he desperately needed right now.
The man had been in the beautiful city of Rondón for about two days now, recuperating from his accident. Once upon a time, he had been a ship captain, but his ship was sunk on the bottom Ryel River and he was forced to swim ashore with nothing but what he was carrying...his cloth sack. As far as he knew, none of his crew survived. The memory was recent and bitter, and he tried his best to drink himself into a stupor to dull the ache, but now he was out of funds. He was dirty, smelled of alcohol and piss, and could feel what seemed like wiggling in his chest hair.
Standing up from the booth, the man made his way on over to where the cloaked figure sat down and, as the figure began eating his stew, sat across from him without an invite. Up close, the man got a much better look of the figure, yet the natural darkness inside of the tavern, despite the few candles and wall sconces, made it somewhat difficult to notice everything about the man. The figure looked to be about the same age as him, perhaps a few years younger, and had similar color hair.
"Name's Gerald," the man said in way of introduction in his poor Rondi. "What's the job and how much does it pay?"
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Henry Walworth
Committed
Roleplay posts: 69
Age: 34
Physical Description: If one were to tell you Henry was a pirate, you would believe that person almost immediately. Something about his tall bearing, the gruffness of voice, the gray hairs starting to penetrate his usually copper mane and well kept beard and mustache, not to mention the scars that crease his face, all scream rogue.
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Clothes and Equipment: Henry usually wears a tan luxurious silken robe and brown breeches, with a white shirt underneath, all secured with a crimson red sash and a brown leather belt. His two handed saber rests in its scabbard attached to his belt, along with his long, thin dagger. When on land and in battle, he wears his brown leather boots, but while at sea, he prefers to be barefoot to grip onto the slippery deck better.
For battle, he wears a blackened burgonet to protect his head, and a blackened cuirass to protect his torso. He also dons leather gloves, with large steel studs sowed onto the knuckles.
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Registered: Mar 25, 2018 18:46:43 GMT -8
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Post by Henry Walworth on Mar 28, 2018 9:50:01 GMT -8
The man didn't even look up from his bowl, "Cut straight to the point do yah?" between bites of his stew, his own accent when speaking Rondi barely perceptible between mouthfuls. It had been tempered from the years spent in Rondi waters and in their cities, but a bit of the poor Isran gruffness over the softer Rondi vowels still lingered. Being a foreigner, he knew he was speaking to another, and that placed him in good standing almost immediately.
The man took another bite, before finally looking at Gerald opposite him. He caught the smell of what appeared to be urine, and couldn't tell if it was the smell of miscreants marking their territory wafting in from outside, or the man himself. Either way, he didn't like it. It reeked of desperation, and that was one thing he didn't need on board. Desperation caused panic, and panic caused ships to sink beneath the foam.
Despite some misgivings, the man appeared to be at least somewhat experienced, from his dress, the way he carried himself, and the fact he came straight over. Deciding to at least entertain a quick interview, he answered, "We get paid what we get paid, and that depends on how good a job you do. So, what do you know how to do?"
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